


There Hunts the Dark of the Ocean

by loupgarrotte



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Modification, Breeding, Butt Plugs, Character Death, Come Inflation, Come as Lube, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Forced Pregnancy, Gangbang, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Mpreg, Multiple Penetration, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other, Pheromones, Pre-Series, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loupgarrotte/pseuds/loupgarrotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be just another hunt. It was just another hunt. People were disappearing. They went down to the beach and they didn’t come back- or their bodies did. Swollen, distended and leaking thick white liquid from every orifice. Gross. Kinda made you wonder what happened to the ones who didn’t make it back, though. ‘Cause that liquid, everyone knew what it was, but no-one wanted to say. No-one wanted to admit that there was some sort of supernatural creature living in the local cave system kidnapping people and using them for, well, that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Hunts the Dark of the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> I saw someone fill a prompt somewhere asking for something along the lines of 'Dean and John go on a hunt and Dean gets captured and bred up by a tentacled monster and its young' and because I am trash the idea stayed with me and I fancied a go at it, so here you are.

It was supposed to be just another hunt. It was just another hunt. People were disappearing. They went down to the beach and they didn’t come back- or their bodies did. Swollen, distended and leaking thick white liquid from every orifice. Gross. Kinda made you wonder what happened to the ones who didn’t make it back, though. ‘Cause that liquid, everyone knew what it was, but no-one wanted to say. No-one wanted to admit that there was some sort of supernatural creature living in the local cave system kidnapping people and using them for, well, that.  


The locals had stopped going down, of course, but that still left the tourists vulnerable. And the townsfolk were being very careful not to let anything slip. They made their lives off of tourist money, something like this getting out would destitute them all. Greed and common sense made them hold their tongues- at least if it’s getting the tourists, it isn’t getting us. We stop sending down new flesh and maybe whatever it is starts coming further in land. 

Dean and John hadn’t even intended to stop here. They’d just been passing through, fancied a rare break and wandered down to the sea with a cold beer. In perfect time to see the latest victim, recently dumped at the entrance to the beachside cave system. A young man, around Dean’s age, swollen and abused, thick rope-like burns around his arms and legs, sucker marks peppered at seemingly random intervals along the sensitive skin of his upper thighs. It suggested something supernatural. Something large, and with tentacles. 

Research pulled up nothing, not even a name, although Dean started referring to it as ‘the Cthulhu’, because ‘tentacled jizz factory’ was a bit of a mouthful. Three days and another body later they gave up on the research. Either this was something brand spanking new or any record of it had been lost to time immemorial. Regardless, they had a fair arsenal, they’d make something stick. Start from a distance with salt rounds, then maybe fire and if that failed, back to the old favourite, a silver knife. And if none of those worked, well, hightail it the fuck outta there and back to the drawing board. 

They entered the main cave together, stopping a few hundred metres down where it branched into two. They briefly debated splitting up, but decided it was too risky. They still didn’t know what this thing looked like- or even how many there were. No sense in making this even riskier just to save a little time. 

Unfortunately, their presence hadn’t gone unnoticed, and even as they talked two thick tentacles slid, disguised under the knee high, murky, brackish water, towards John’s ankles. 

Without warning his feet were yanked out from under him, pulling him down and submerging him before he could even call out and warn his son. Dean moved quickly, dropping down and trying to extricate John from the Cthulhu’s grip. His physical strength was no match for it, but he still had his silver knife. He lashed out with it, cutting the Cthulhu, but while he was distracted more tentacles came, wrapping around his arms and legs and squeezing until he dropped the weapon. He kicked and bit and struggled, but unlike with John, the Cthulhu didn’t try to pull him under the water. It held him, high up, while he watched the stream of bubbles coming from John’s gaping mouth get sparser and sparser, until, nothing. 

The Cthulhu had no need for John alive. He was too old for breeding purposes. He’d make an acceptable meal, though. 

Once John was limp it pulled him and the still struggling Dean close and began to wind its way through wet rocky tunnels and to a dry chamber deep in the heart of the cave system. The Cthulhu, which Dean now noted looked less like the Lovecraftian monster and more like a writhing mass of tentacles with no discernible body- just two huge eyes glowing malevolently in the centre, tossed John’s body towards the back of the cave before settling into a huge seaweed nest in the centre. There it set to work shredding off Dean’s clothes. He fought back, harder than before even, visions of the body on the shore burned indelibly into his brain. He wanted to close his eyes, wanted to make this all go away, but he couldn’t. He had to stay alert, wait for the moment when he could escape. Because he would escape. This wasn’t going to happen. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t. 

Once Dean was completely disrobed the Cthulhu lifted him up, turning him over and examining him carefully, running dark purple tentacles across his stomach, his thighs, and finally his ass. He tried to scream but was immediately muted by a pale, thin appendage forcing its way into his mouth. Once there it started to secrete something, thick and cloying, pumping it forcibly down his throat and into his stomach. It tingled as it went down, all the sensation and heat of chilli but with the taste and texture of cheap lube. Another, identical limb forced its way jaggedly into his ass and he felt the same secretions spurting out as the Cthulhu began to stuff him full of an aggressive combination of pheromones, hormones, and a little something extra, supernatural, to turn him into a suitable breeding receptacle. 

The process would take several days to complete, but the Cthulhu wasn’t going to dump him there and leave him to it in the meantime. It was going to play with its newest fucktoy. 

The Cthulhu pulled Dean’s legs apart as wide as it could without permanently damaging him and then thrust one of its breeding tentacles, about as thick as two fingers at the end and widening considerably in girth as it got closer to the creature, viciously into his ass. He bucked and writhed and tried to scream again but was rewarded with another thick appendage forcing its way into his mouth. It tasted of sulphur and salt and bile and he tried to bite down, but the Cthulhu responded by squeezing his middle so hard he thought his ribs might crack. 

Angered by his show of resistance, the Cthulhu thrust another tentacle into his ass, scissoring the two thicker ones apart and stretching him painfully wide to admit a third and then a fourth breeding tentacle. Finally now, it began. It thrust and pumped at a brutal pace, fucking into him as much for its own pleasure as to break him. Show him what he could expect for the rest of his life, should he survive the process. Some did. Many didn’t. 

Finally Dean went limp in the Cthulhu’s hold, allowing it to pound into him with no resistance, tentacles impaling his throat and ass working to the same brutal rhythm. The Cthulhu rumbled an approving noise but it didn’t slow down, if anything picking up the pace. The chemical secretions still gushing from the two pheromone tentacles that worked to change Dean’s insides also slicked him up, so that every thrust came with a wet, filthy slap- thick, hot liquid overflowing and spilling out of his ass, swelling his belly until it was distended. 

Dean had lost the ability to focus on anything but the Cthulhu. All hope for escape now gone, all he knew was pain as his insides began the slow process of modifying themselves, mixed with the horrible, dirtybad pleasure as the Cthulhu rubbed up against his prostate on every thrust, his ass so full that it was impossible to avoid it. 

Then the Cthulhu came, and Dean thought he was going to die. Full as he’d been before, this was so much more. Too much. His gut bulged out even more, painfully now. Hot, thick, white come pushed against his insides, threatening to burst through his stomach, trying to push its way back up his throat, only to be blocked by a pair of tentacles. His ass didn’t fare much better, as the Cthulhu used its limbs to plug him up, forced him to hold in as much as possible until it went lax and pulled out, a wave of liquid following and cascading to the ground below. 

He tried to retch, but every time he came close to throwing up the Cthulhu stuffed its tentacles back into his mouth, plugging him up and forcing him to swallow acidic bile and come and pheromone secretions all mixed into one until his throat, already raw from the fucking, felt scratched and bloody. 

When he was finally done trying to throw up the Cthulhu carried Dean, legs still forcibly splayed open like it was displaying him, into an antechamber. The floor was rough, but at least it was empty and he allowed himself to relax minutely as the Cthulhu laid him out on it and left. He was sure that his ordeal was over, at least for now. 

He was wrong. Laid out and used, reeking of come and pheromones and breeder, he was attracting other things. Younger things. The spawn of the Cthulhu that had claimed him, too young to create their own breeders, too young to breed even. But not too young to want to. Not too young to enjoy themselves on both of his fucked out, sloppy holes. And they did. A short scuffle broke out to see who’d get the newest toy first, and while the two biggest were fighting over him, a third gripped his limp body, pinned him face down to the ground and pressed inside his leaking ass. 

The wet sound of it fucking through fluid echoed in the cave, drawing the others’ attention and, seeing how loose he was, how easily he’d be able to take more than one of them at a time, they gave up fighting and joined in. He feebly tried to move away, but even though these creatures were barely the same size as him, their tentacles too small and weak to even lift him while they fucked, his strength was gone. 

They pinned Dean roughly to the ground, each separate thrust grinding him against the rocky floor below until he was scratched and bleeding. Eventually he passed out. Still they didn’t stop, although mercifully this time when the last had come and wandered off in search of new entertainment, there was nothing to hold its spend inside. 

The Cthulhu returned to Dean a few hours later, picking him up and examining him carefully. The changes were progressing well. It’d let the young have him because not every potential survived this stage, this way at least they all got put to some use, even if they ended up dying. This one was strong but that wasn’t all there was to it, of course. A potential could be strong and still die in the process, if their body fought back too hard and ended up rejecting the change. Except this one’s body didn’t appear to be fighting at all. He was just lying there and taking it perfectly. 

The Cthulhu carried Dean back to its nest chamber and deposited him in a high walled pit, close enough for it to keep a careful eye on him. It knew from experience that this was the danger period. This one looked like he would survive, but that meant he would start to recover, which meant he might try to escape. No danger of that if he was kept down in the pit. For a time the Cthulhu had kept the developing breeders up on a high ledge, but too many had risked the jump and killed themselves. A slew of perfectly good breeders had been wasted like that. 

The Cthulhu plunged one of its pheromone tentacles deep into Dean's ass, wiggling around a bit, giving him an extra few shots. No harm in being certain. His walls contracted and pulsed around the intrusion, but he didn’t wake up. The Cthulhu withdrew, plugging his ass up with some seaweed to make sure nothing leaked out, dropped some fish next to him, so he wouldn’t starve, and then it retreated. 

* 

Dean woke three days later with a scream. Everything about him burned, not just the bits that had been abused since he’d come to the cave. The change was in its final stage, and that final stage was utter agony as his insides ripped apart and reformed themselves. The Cthulhu watched, impatiently. It couldn’t leave the cave while it was converting a new breeder, they were too vulnerable, and it hadn’t fucked anything since Dean three days ago. It was half crazed with lust, but instinct held it back. The breeder wasn’t ready and it could ruin him if it succumbed. 

It only took another day for Dean to be ready. If the first fucking had been rough, this was purely vicious. Three thick tentacles forced their way into his ass together, punching through the brief resistance and stretching him brutally, bloodily so that a fourth could fit in. Another two squirmed into his mouth and the Cthulhu pounded into him with lust crazed ferocity. With no pheromone liquid to lubricate him up Dean was in agony as he tried to scream around the two tentacles pounding in and out of his throat. The Cthulhu came quickly, too pent up from its wait to wring it out. Like last time, it was reluctant to let any of its come escape from Dean, plugging him up with thick tentacles until it was ready to go again. This time at least its own come served as a lubricant, and with the pain reduced, Dean began to feel some faint sparks of pleasure. When it came again he couldn’t help throwing up. He was overflowing, leaking from everywhere like the guy he’d found on the beach, but unlike that guy, he was going to survive this. He was going to feel every last second of it. 

By the final round Dean was writhing for a different reason. He needed to come, desperately, but it didn’t matter how much the Cthulhu fucked him, how much its come surged against his prostate, shooting sparks of agonised bliss through his veins, he needed something more. He tried to reach a hand around his cock, knowing that tiny instant of friction would be all he needed, but he couldn’t. The Cthulhu still had his arms and legs held tight, still had total and utter control. It began to tense and Dean recognised the sign, had experienced this enough now that he knew it was about to come. Then one of the thin, pheromone tentacles reached around, grasped his cock tightly, and yanked. Dean came with a scream, muffled by thick tentacles, and the clench of his ass gave the Cthulhu that last push it needed. A final gush of burning, agonising come painted Dean’s insides from top to bottom as he passed out. 

The Cthulhu didn’t bother to plug up its new breeder’s ass as it placed him carefully back into the pit. He’d caught towards the end of the final fuck, it’d been able to smell the change in him. That’s why it’d decided to let him come. A reward. It’d taken longer than the Cthulhu had expected though, and now it was tired. Still, the boy was new. The more he was fucked, the more of the Cthulhu’s chemicals that sang through his bloodstream, the easier this’d get. 

If Dean thought he’d get a respite now that he’d been bred up, he was wrong. The Cthulhu was voracious. Every day it lifted him out of his pit and every day it fucked into him, with varying degrees of ferocity. 

* 

A month later, when his waist had begun to bulge, Dean was moved into the Cthulhu’s nest. Now when it was done with him, he didn’t have the pit to trap or protect him. Now when it was done, when he was reeking of bred and pheromones and used and fucked, the young came looking for him. The young used him, and left him. He didn’t fight back, though. 

Two months later Dean could no longer stand of his own will. He was too heavy, swollen belly thick and fat with the Cthulhu’s young, stomach and ass kept near constantly pumped full of come and pheromones as he lay back and let them all take him, whenever and however they wished. 

Three months later, the Cthulhu moved him into a different chamber. Here Dean gave birth, several dozen midnight green, squidlike creatures forcing their way violently out of his body, into the water and away. When the last one was gone, Dean made his way carefully back to the Cthulhu’s nest, lying on his back and spreading his legs. He was empty, and he needed to be filled. 

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea the self-control it took to not keep using the term ‘identical tentacles’ so be grateful for that and also that I changed the name of the monster from the working title of ‘squidcubus’.


End file.
